Barrows Book 1: The Rise of Six
Chapter 1: Curse of Draynor Rough Draft 1: Revision 2 – 11/27/2013 – 11/28-2013 The brothers lurched forward from their rest, a panic surrounded them in their small single bedroom shack; it came from the roads of their home town at the foot of Draynor Manor. There were no beds, no blankets, no stove or furnace; it resides on the northernmost outskirts of the town. Their mother purchased this tool shed from a farmer, with all of the fifty gold pieces she had to her name. She saved all she could after her husband perished during one of the battles of the God Wars just two years earlier. He was struck down by a demon of the Zamorakian army at the battle of Senntisten. Draynor had a very dangerous pest problem, some have killer bees, or plagues, but Draynor had Vampyres. They have pled and pled with the Saradominist army time and time again, but alas, they only got the same answer every time. That it would cause too many casualties for their military force with no ground obtained that could be beneficial. Ahrim quickly consolidated and corralled his brothers into a corner of the shack. A dark figure passed the window. Their mother dropped to the dirt and scrambled into the opposite corner. The shed shook vigorously in the wind; the leaks in the roof drained the rain into the shed, soaking the dirt. It was icy cold, their mother sank slightly. Her dirty rags, starting to soak up the water and became heavy as they consumed the mud. They heard more screaming, this time it sounded familiar, the screams of people being attacked by vampyres; the blood curdling terror consumed their ears. Vampyres have extremely large Canine teeth, allowing them easy access to being able to suck the blood from their victims. These specific vampyres were of a more powerful breed than normal ones; Count Draynor created them as such to do his dirty work. He did so to increase his military force, undetected by the armies of Saradomin, they were to strike deep in the order of the temple knights of Falador. With that information, the army and the temple knights still refused to get involved. The vampyres stood a solid six foot three inches, some of the weaker ones stood a bit shorter, Count Draynor has been said to stand at six foot six. However, no one knows for sure how tall or powerful he is, as he has not been seen in several years. Normally, the home of the brothers’ is left, undisturbed, untouched. The invaders usually decide it’s too small to be dealt with. This time, however, they were not so lucky. The wind howled through the cracks in the walls, and the rain intensified. And with that a pounding on the door began. Chills came over the entire family; they did not know what to think. Ahrim was able to comfort his brothers enough, that they were able to stay calm. They did not so much as breathe heavy enough to be heard from the outside. They heard footsteps outside and assumed the threat had passed. The brothers did not move, however their mother shifted in place and outstretched one leg, accidentally scratching it on a board, with a nail, broken off from the unwavering storm. The footsteps stopped, they started walking back, the figure was visible through the window, and he approached the door again. “You cannot hide the smell of your blood, mortal.” He spoke coldly. He pounded on the door again, in the sound of the door being repeatedly struck by what sounded like a rock hitting it, their mother jumped up next to the door with that same board in hand. “Fine, I’ll let myself in.” He smacked the door one last time, this time, it cracked as it separated from the hinges and smashed against its opposing wall. He stepped through and gazed at the six. His blistering red eyes were terrifying. His body was so cold the air inside the shack got even colder. He walked toward the boys, after two steps their mother poised herself for an attack. “Don’t touch my boys, monster!” The block of wood belted down on the vampyre’s neck, shattering on impact. She mustered all of her strength into striking him. She took a step back, clinging to what remained of the wood, “Please don’t harm them.” She uttered a small whimper, “They are only children.” “It’s good that the count doesn’t like courage in his blood,” he licked his lips, “more for me.” The brothers were no strangers to death, the god wars claimed thousands daily, the vampyres of Draynor fed weekly, and no real law enforcement existed to protect the people; at least, not one that existed that wasn’t claimed by a god to fight their war. Dharok wrenched his head from Ahrim’s grasp, yelling as loud as he could. “Mother, please, run, forget about us!” Even if she wanted to run, it was too late; the vampyre thrust his hand into her sternum. The bone shattered, leaving a gaping hole in her already fragile chest, the now fragmented solid bone caused massive bleeding, blood now poured from her chest. She was in so much shock; she just stood there, looking down. Ahrim stood, relinquishing his now sobbing and terrified brothers; he gripped the steel knife that was upon the table. His mind was made up, all manner of things poured into his thoughts, from what part to strike, to how to provide for his now even further broken family. He was resolved to kill, to kill this creature of darkness. He took one step, one more and he could thrust his blade into the vampyre. “Courage and stupidity are within the same realm, but not the same gnome ball court.” He spoke coldly again, Ahrim froze. “Your bloodlust betrays you kid.” The vampyre turned, and looked at him as if peering into his soul and skewering it with a knife of his own; Ahrim started to breathe, very hard. He felt weak, in so much pain. He clenched his chest, the stress started to attack him, it began to throb, with such immense pain, he could no longer continue standing. He crashed to the ground no longer able to breathe, he felt sick and could feel himself falling into unconsciousness and could hear his brothers’ cries for help fading. He was losing the ability to see, but his remaining vision was flooded by, sunlight. But that was impossible it couldn’t be morning all ready. He was suddenly turned onto his back and warmth consumed him. “I will not let you die.” He could only see red locks of hair. He passed out. Category:Stories